Amalia
"Not a midwife exactly, but she was a medic at the infirmary." Amalia shrugs, as though that sums everything up - and in a way, it does. Here if someone can do a thing successfully they do all of the associated aspects as well. Rishima had been a great medic: it simply made sense that she delivered life in addition to seeing it snuffed out. Besides, there had always been too few people here to merit such levels of specialization.
At least, that had been the case.
The melancholy tone of Not any time soon escapes Amalia's notice. Instead she nods in agreement, pleased that at least Phoebe is waiting before bringing children into the world. She does not voice her misgivings about the pair, though the thought remains, circling in her mind. Instead she simply smiles, tilting her head in quiet agreement before the distraction of the plants saves them both from more awkward small talk, and Amalia in particular from putting her foot in her mouth.
Delicately Amalia holds the jar as Phoebe places the sample, before corking it and handing it back to the younger girl. Rising back up with a glare of consternation for the blighted plants, the baker turns to the midwife, nodding in reply as she collects an unaffected selection of moss. "Do we need more?"
At least, that had been the case.
The melancholy tone of Not any time soon escapes Amalia's notice. Instead she nods in agreement, pleased that at least Phoebe is waiting before bringing children into the world. She does not voice her misgivings about the pair, though the thought remains, circling in her mind. Instead she simply smiles, tilting her head in quiet agreement before the distraction of the plants saves them both from more awkward small talk, and Amalia in particular from putting her foot in her mouth.
Delicately Amalia holds the jar as Phoebe places the sample, before corking it and handing it back to the younger girl. Rising back up with a glare of consternation for the blighted plants, the baker turns to the midwife, nodding in reply as she collects an unaffected selection of moss. "Do we need more?"
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
